Forte and Vaun headed to the transaction point in Port Sawen with the cart of looted mithril. Two knights in armor embroidered with the king’s sigil greeted them.

“This is the shipment of mithril, sirs.” Forte exclaimed tentatively. “We are looking for 300 silvers per bar.”

The knight sneered. “That’s it? Only twelve bars? The king will have our head with this kind of quantity. I’ll pay you 600 silvers for all twelve bars… what a miserable shipment."

“I’m sorry sir, but that is only 50 silvers per bar. We cannot—“

The knight’s eyes flared. “Then we will take it by force!” He said, as the two king’s knights drew their blades.

Vaun’s eyes darted worryingly between Forte and the knights, hand ready to draw his dagger. Forte motioned him to stand down.

“We don’t want to fight. How about 80 silvers per bar?” Forte said.

The two knights consulted each other in whispers. After a moment’s consideration, the knight answered. “That’s reasonable. We have a deal.”

The knight handed over 960 silvers as Forte and Vaun passed the cart of mithril bars to them. The knights had the mithril lifted into their carriage, and then departed without a word.

Forte sighed heavily. “We were played. Only 960 silvers. That’s 480 for both of us.” He handed Vaun a pouch with half of the earnings.

“Aye…” Vaun shook his head in disappointment, weighing the pouch in his hands with practiced movement. “It’s not much, but will have to do. Better than losing an arm and a leg.”

“Anyway, this is where we part. I must take care of my business. This silver will be a start.” Vaun declared in a solemn tone.

“Best of luck to you, friend. Fair winds and safe travels.” Forte replied.

“Fair winds to you as well, friend. May we meet again over a pint of ale.” Vaun grinned with his cat-like eyes.

Forte frowned as he watched his friend walk out the Port. He was on his own again. No one to save him now. Neither dragon nor potion master would come to his aid.

Author’s notes: Level 5 Vaun has left the party. S+ pet has left the party.